


Kiss

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Sterek A-Z Challenge [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Scott has zero tolerance for people in love, Which is ironic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: The unimpressed look he got made him feel likemaybeScott wasn’t impressed with him. Which was fine, really, he knew he wasn’t that good at impressing people. Pressing sandwiches, he was good at. Impressing people, whole different ball game.Also a different word, but irrelevant in this case. The point was, he didn’t often impress people so Scott’s disappointment was virtually non-existent.





	Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis

It was distracting. Like, super distracting. So incredibly distracting. So unbelievably, undeniable, horrendously dis—

“Stiles!”

Stiles jerked into an upright position at the table, clearing his throat and reshuffling the papers in front of him while looking away from what he’d been staring at.

“Are you even paying attention?” Scott asked irately.

“What? No, of course, Scotty.” He gave him an incredulous look. “Come on. Of course.” He squinted. “What were we talking about?”

The unimpressed look he got made him feel like _maybe_  Scott wasn’t impressed with him. Which was fine, really, he knew he wasn’t that good at impressing people. Pressing sandwiches, he was good at. Impressing people, whole different ball game.

Also a different word, but irrelevant in this case. The point was, he didn’t often impress people so Scott’s disappointment was virtually non-existent.

He made a big show of nodding and pretending to listen while Scott continued, but his eyes kept straying towards the point of distraction across the room.

Derek.

Derek, who had just returned from being gone for months. _Months_.

Well, _just_  returned was a bit misleading. He’d been back for almost two weeks, but still. Stiles couldn’t get used to him. The sight of him still made him shiver with delight, and he didn’t know why.

Okay no, he knew why. It was because Derek had gotten hotter. Like, was that even _possible_?! Apparently it was if your name was Derek McFuckilicious Hale. Real name, Stiles was sure. He’d bet his Jeep that was Derek’s middle name.

But seriously, he didn’t know how this had happened. Sure, Derek had always been extremely attractive, and Stiles had found himself stealing glances at him over the years, but this was the first time he’d felt _drawn_  to him. Physically attracted to him. Like, _really_  physically attracted. He wanted to lick Derek’s abs, suck on his stomach, as well as _other_ places.

And God that mouth. That _mouth_! Had Derek’s lips always looked that kissable? They were almost permanently jutted out in a pout, making Stiles want to crawl all over his lounging form and suck and bite at his bottom one. God, he wondered what Derek tasted like.

He’d always smelled amazing, in Stiles’ opinion. Weird, maybe, that he knew what Derek smelled like, but he figured it was something he’d always noticed and hanging out with wolves had made him more perceptive to it. If Derek smelled that good, he had to taste even better.

What Stiles wouldn’t give to wander over there, spread Derek’s legs and see what kind of sounds he could make come out of that perfect mouth while he—

“Okay, well, I’m leaving.”

Stiles jumped when Scott slammed a book shut and stood, beginning to shove all of his things away.

“What? Why?” Stiles hastily stood as well and began gathering all his papers. Realistically, the only reason they were even _at_  Derek’s was because they’d gotten used to using his abandoned loft for their meetings. If Scott was done with the meeting, then so was Stiles.

“I can’t handle this,” Scott insisted, shaking his head.

“Handle what?” Stiles demanded.

Scott just motioned his face vaguely and it took exactly one second for Stiles to realize he could smell how turned on he was by Derek’s presence. Heat slowly began to creep up the back of his neck, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times while Scott finished packing away and threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

“See you at school. Later Derek.”

“Bye,” Derek grunted absently, turning the page of the book he was reading.

“Wa-wait! I’m coming!” Stiles insisted, trying to hurry and gather his things, but Scott had already left the loft, closing the door behind him with a loud scraping sound. Stiles didn’t let that deter him, finishing up with everything and tugging the strap over his shoulder while simultaneously trying to zip it shut.

By the time he looked up, he was halfway across the apartment, and he froze.

Derek was standing in front of the door, watching him intently. He had his arms crossed, his amazingly muscular arms, Jesus, did he gain more muscle while he was— _focus_!—and looked like he was standing there to purposefully stop him from escaping.

“Uh, I was—Scott’s gonna leave, and I...” Stiles trailed off helplessly, unable to get his brain to focus. Why was Derek staring at him like that?

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not?” Stiles asked in a small voice, watching Derek approach, leaving the entrance unguarded.

Stiles stumbled back a step, concerned about what was about to happen since Derek looked his usual angry self, and he let out a rather embarrassing shout when the Werewolf grabbed him at the waist and wrenched him forward, burying his face in Stiles’ neck and inhaling deeply.

Large hands shifted from his hips up along Stiles’ back, one settling near the base of his spine and the other sliding up, up, until it slid across his bare neck, goosebumps rising on his skin, and then finally settled up in his hair.

Stiles’ heart was beating a mile a minute, breathing coming in ragged gasps. What the fuck? What the _fuck_?!

Pleasant what the fuck, because _wow_  Derek was toned beneath that shirt, and his hands were so big and warm and, oh yeah, that felt nice... the neck kisses felt nice. Even when teeth were starting to peek out, yeah, this was good.

“Derek...” Stiles groaned, eyes sliding shut. “Wha...”

“You think you’re the only one Scott was running away from?” Derek breathed against his neck. “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me. Fuck, Stiles.”

Stiles shrugged the strap off his shoulder, bag landing on the ground with a thump, and he buried his hands in Derek’s hair. It was soft beneath his fingers, and he felt his breath hitch at another kiss in a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

Derek paused then, breathing against his pulse for a few seconds. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Oh, _fuck_  yes,” Stiles breathed almost urgently, worried Derek was about to pull away.

“Good.” Derek kissed his neck again. “Bed.”

“Couch is closer.”

“Couch,” Derek agreed, and they shuffled towards it.

It was probably a good thing Scott had left. Things were about to get loud.

**END.**


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